When She Wakes
by AndYetDuskFades
Summary: "One day," she promises him, "I will kill you."
1. Prologue

**Hey beautiful readers! It's been a long time, I know. I'm sorry I've left you hanging for so long, but a few things over the past year have kept me from writing. This story is _not_ a continuation of AYDF and EFY, although it does use the same pairing. It's been in my head for a few months now and it finally felt like the right time to write it. It's a little different to my other stories, but I truly hope you like it. Lots of love to you all xx.**

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

The girl counts her breaths.

_One_.

She lies on a bed in the centre of a dark room. A white sheet covers her naked body, cocooning her figure in a layer of heat. A drop of sweat slides down her forehead and behind her ear.

_Two._

Iron bracelets encircle her wrists and bind her to the railings which hem her bed. An I.V. line emerges from beneath the sheet and attaches to an unlabeled bag on the pole beside her. The bag is almost empty; most of the clear fluid now flows inside her. _He'll _come soon.

_Three._

Two guards watch her from several metres away. She doesn't look at them. She couldn't even if she wanted to. She can smell them though. Their scents burn the back of her throat as she breathes in.

_Four_.

Her chest rises and falls slowly; there's something peaceful in the way that she breathes. Her body, calm and still, veils the tumultuous thoughts inside. She wants to thrash and scream. Her breaths should be short and ragged. It is not enough that she is kept here. Even her body, the paralysed muscles which keep her mind prisoner, has betrayed her.

_Five_.

A door opens to her right and she stops counting. She knows what will happen next. His visits are the only constant in her life.

"You may leave." His voice is pure, untainted by accent or inflection.

The girl's heart begins to beat painfully against her chest, its rhythm sharp and even. The drugs don't stop _this_. Her heart is left untouched by their poison. Another drop of sweat finds its way into her left eye and she blinks. She fears _him_ and she hates him for it.

The guards leave at his instruction. Their scents remain, but his overwhelms them both. His scent is cleaner, more potent. His steps are quiet as he moves toward the girl, slowly like he doesn't want to scare her. Her eyes move to look at him as he draws nearer. He is tall and lean and wears nondescript black trousers with a white shirt. His skin is pale though its bronzed tone is not dissimilar to her own. His hair falls in dark waves around his eyes, trained carefully on her. She swallows. His irises, crimson at the edges, darken to a cold black pupil.

He stands now at her bedside. Effortlessly, while she watches, he replaces her I.V. bag and the new drugs begin to flow through her veins. She tries to clench her fists, to wiggle her toes, but her attempts are futile. His eyebrows pull together as he cocks his head to the side and stares at her. For a moment the girl thinks that he is going to speak, but instead he presses his lips together and pulls a needle and syringe from his pocket. She knows it's there, but she doesn't see the small glass vial until he holds it upside down and draws the liquid inside into the syringe.

She is unable to flinch as he reaches down and draws one side of the sheet away from her bare body. His eyes don't travel over her figure the way other men's would. He remains focused on his task, cleaning the skin around her belly and then injecting the contents of the vial into her abdominal tissue. She barely feels the prick of the needle. She hates him, this man who violates her each night with his syringe and composure.

_One day, I _will _kill you_, she promises him. She cannot say the words aloud, but he sees them in her eyes.

He's watching her, his face just a few feet above her own. His smooth forehead, his strong nose, his square jawline… they betray no emotion. His face is expressionless and beautiful. The girl spits at him. The drugs are working though, and the saliva only dribbles across her chin. He sighs and uses the corner of her sheet to wipe the spit from her face. His fingers brush her skin, cold and imposing.

"I have a new video for you tonight," he murmurs, withdrawing his hand. He reaches behind the bed and adjusts the frame to sit the girl up.

She faces a screen now, fixed to the far wall. Moments later, a picture lights the monitor. A young woman stares back at her. Her eyes are large and framed by thick black lashes. High cheekbones and full lips are made prominent by her makeup. The girl's eyes trace the woman's dark shoulder-length hair. The woman is familiar. She's in every video that _he _shows her. The woman gives the camera a small smile and then turns away.

The girl doesn't want to watch what comes next. "Why?" she tries to ask her captor, but all she can manage is a small animal-like groan. _Why do you show me these?_

He understands her question though because his next words send chills across her skin. "Because," he says, "that woman in the videos, Leah, will one day be _you_."


	2. When She Wakes

**WHEN SHE WAKES  
**

_I turn away from him, but he grabs my arm and spins me around._

"_Let _go_ of me!" I hiss._

_He grins. His face is just inches from mine. I open my mouth again but he kisses me before I can say another word. His lips are hard and his kiss rough, but he takes me by surprise and I kiss him back. His right arm encircles my waist and his fingers entangle themselves in my hair. I don't know what I'm doing. I grab a fistful of his shirt and pull him nearer, but my other hand curls into a fist._

_I punch him._

_He staggers backward and touches his cheek where I hit him. For a moment he's stunned, but then he grins again. "One day, Leah Clearwater, you're going to fall in love with me."_

My eyes open. Not suddenly, but slowly, tiredly. There are two shadowy figures standing near me, but their forms are blurred. I try to bring them into focus but my head hurts and my eyes flutter shut once more. It's the smell that eventually forces my eyes open again. The figures haven't moved. I breathe in and the air catches sharply in my throat. It's sweet. Too sweet.

My muscles tense. Without thought, I throw myself from the bed. My legs can't bear my weight, though, and they collapse beneath me. Still the blurred figures don't move. I back away from them, dragging myself along the floor to the nearest wall. I press my back against its surface and try to pull myself to my feet. Something is wrong. My muscles aren't holding me up right and I feel like I'm going to be sick. My eyes dart around the room, but the picture is distorted. The hair on my arms stands up.

"Leah." One of the shadows moves toward me. My name is gentle on his lips, reassuring. F_amiliar_.

"Master," I say. The word is automatic. My voice is hoarse like I haven't spoken in a long while.

Aro opens his arms and embraces me. "My child," he says, "you have woken."

I let him hold me. My arms wrap around his neck as he takes my weight. I begin to shake. At first, just my lip trembles, then my hands start to shake. Now shudders rack through my entire body. I can distinguish Aro's scent now from the other, but I ignore the burning sensation in my nose. "I don't know where I am," I tell him. My voice shakes too.

He pulls away slightly and brushes a lock of hair behind my ear. "Of course you don't, my dear."

I wait for Aro to explain, but he says nothing more. I don't want to speak and so I bury my face in his shoulder. My head feels heavy and my thoughts clouded. I try to resurrect memories of my master, but I find nothing, just a sense of familiarity and comfort. I try to recall other memories now. There's just a face – bronzed and grinning. _One day, Leah Clearwater, you're going to fall in love with me_. I should be panicking. I know this and yet I can't see through the fog in my head enough to be alarmed.

Then I vomit. Foul-smelling brown liquid. I can taste its acidic tang.

Aro doesn't pull away. He uses one hand to support me while he removes his soiled cloak with the other. Underneath, he wears a matching set of black trousers and a dark grey jacket. He doesn't take his eyes off of me when he next speaks. "Alec," he murmurs, "be a dear and bring me a cloth."

The second figure moves forward and stands with us moments later. He is small with hair like cocoa and the face of an angel. Alec. A name. A fact. I know this, but I don't remember how.

"Master," he says, inclining his head slightly and handing Aro a red cloth. His voice is musical. I flinch when he takes Aro's cloak, but he backs away.

Aro lifts my chin to look at him and then wipes my face clean. His complexion is chalky and his blood-red eyes strangely hazy. I recoil slightly. His forehead creases with concern. "Are you in pain, Leah?" he asks softly. I shake my head. His touch is cold, unnatural, but I wonder if it's because my skin is so hot. I'm aware of it now. I'm burning up. "Come," Aro says. He places one arm across my back to support me as he guides me back towards the bed on which I woke. My legs are unsteady beneath me, but with Aro's help I manage the few shaky steps to the centre of the room.

Alec stands at the foot of the bed as Aro helps me back up. I'm tired now. My muscles ache from the short walk, and my eyelids feel thick and viscid. I have to strain to hear Aro when he tells me quietly to sleep.

When I wake the second time, I panic. My eyes open suddenly this time but my head still feels cloudy. I notice the I.V. cannula in the back of my hand before I notice anything else. A knot of fear forms in the pit of my stomach and I rip the cannula out with my teeth before it can hurt me. It's painful to sit up, but I do. I smell Aro before I see him. He's standing a few metres away, watching me. I scan the room wildly, but we are alone.

He takes a cautious step toward me, but I shuffle backwards in the bed and press myself against its railing. "Please don't come closer," I plead.

Aro stops and puts his hands up in a gesture of docility. "If that is what you'd prefer."

I nod. "Where am I?"

He doesn't answer. "Leah, can you tell me what exactly you remember?"

"I – I –" I stutter and break off. I am Leah. A pale bronzed face once promised me I'd love him. I am afraid of the I.V. drip beside my bed. I stare at Aro and the words leave my lips slowly; my voice inflects the last of them, turning the words into a question. "You are my master?"

His brows rise ever so slightly. "Am I?"

I take a deep breath. "Yes," I say. "Yes, you are my master." The words are wrong though. I have no master. I have only myself. Don't I? My pulse quickens and a breath hitches in my throat. _Don't I? _ Aro is at my bedside now. He takes my hand and regards me through milky eyes. At his touch, I begin to calm down. Aro _is_ my master. I don't remember how or why, but I remember that it is true. I whisper my next words. "I don't want a master."

Aro's features remain impassive, but I see a subtle change in his eyes. He smiles then before I can read it. "How about a friend?" he asks me.

"A friend?" I listen to the sound of the word; I _taste_ it on my tongue. "I might need to think about that," I eventually say.

"I would be disappointed, my dear, if you didn't."

I swallow, but I don't pull away from the cold hand which still holds mine. It comforts me even as it repulses me. "Where am I?" I ask Aro again.

Aro turns his head and his eyes sweep the room. "Italy, Leah. You're home."

"I don't like this room."

"No and neither do I," he says solemnly. "It's awfully _dreary. _Still, it seemed best that we keep you here."

I study the room more carefully now. There is a large wooden door to my right with a brass handle; it is shut but from where I am it doesn't appear to be locked. The stone walls are grey, as is the low ceiling. The floor is made from thick wooden boards. There are no windows. My bed is in the centre of the room and I sit atop its clean white sheets, wearing a pale pink gown. I can see now that the I.V. drip beside my bed is not connected to the cannula I ripped from my hand; it lies several feet away in a groove between two floor boards.

Aro follows my gaze. "I'm sorry," he says. "I inserted it myself. I thought that you might need some more pain medication. You do burn through it _ever_ so quickly."

I stare at him. "Pain medication?"

For a moment Aro looks distraught. He hesitates before telling me, "You were hurt, Leah." He winces then and lists my injuries. Broken ribs, a fractured femur and jaw, internal bleeding, brain contusions, a subdural haemorrhage…

I don't press Aro for details. It doesn't seem important. "That's why my memories are gone," I say instead.

"For now," he replies, nodding. "Although that will improve with time."

I look down at our hands. I suppose I should feel relieved. Or scared. I don't though, I just feel tired. A face swims in my mind. _Dark tousled hair falls in his eyes; he grabs my arm and kisses me_… "I do remember _something_," I tell Aro. My words are beginning to slur.

"Yes," he says, also looking at our hands. "Some memories are more important to us than others."

I flinch then and pull my hand away. "You can see my memory," I utter quietly. I don't know where the words come from. They're ridiculous.

Aro sighs. His tone is apologetic. "We have many gifts here in Italy."

"And yours is reading minds." The words leave my lips and I'm strangely composed. I shouldn't be, but I am. It's just another fact. Aro is my master. I am Leah. The angel-faced boy with the cocoa hair is Alec. I'm afraid of the I.V. drip beside my bed. Aro is a mind reader. Maybe Aro is right. Maybe my memories will improve with time.

"What else do you remember about me?"

I breathe in his sickly scent. "You're a vampire," I say. Vampires don't exist. But Aro does.

"This doesn't shock you." The words are not a question.

"No."

"Why do you think that is?"

I close my eyes and try to force my list of facts into a coherent memory. It would be easier to just sleep. Knowledge does not equal memory. "I think… I think that maybe I've known this about you for a long time, even if I can't _remember_ knowing it." I open my eyes suddenly and the venom in my next words surprises me. "You're a _leech_."

Aro claps his hands delightedly. "Welcome back, Leah darling!"

I clamp my hand over my mouth. _Leech_. The word seems fitting, like I've spat it at him a thousand times. Mumbled words emerge from between my fingers. "Do I call you that often?"

"Only when you're angry," Aro tells me. "Which isn't all that uncommon actually. You do have a bit of a temper."

I have a temper. Aro's a leech and I have a temper. I lie back down and stare at the ceiling, trying to recall other facts about myself. I'm twenty -_ish_? I frown and decide to come back to that later. I'm dangerous. That one's easy. I shouldn't exist but I do. Like Aro.

I squeeze my eyes shut for just a moment and take a sharp breath. My head is hurting again. It doesn't matter though because something inside me suddenly snaps. My eyes narrow. A cold, white fury rushes through me and I hiss through my teeth. I strive to keep my voice even. "How long have I been gone?" I ask.

Aro keeps his voice flat. "Ten days. Your muscles are weak from disuse."

"I want to fix that."

"So do I."

"Fine," I say. I don't know where to direct my fury; I don't even know what brought it on. And so I stifle it. I project it inwards so that my skin prickles and my head pounds. For some reason, this feels natural. "What happens next, then?"

"You begin training. I've arranged for your sessions to start tomorrow."

Training. To fix my weakened muscles. I clench my teeth. "I want to start _now_."

I turn to see Aro smiling darkly. He looks pleased. "Very well then."

The muscles in my arms shake as I prop myself up onto my elbows. I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and roll so that my stomach presses into the mattress and my toes touch the ground. I'm standing now, using the bed for support. I look down at my calves. They've wasted away in the last ten days. _Weak from disuse_. Shame warms my cheeks. I am like a child again, learning to walk again, to run, to remember… _To run!_ I grin suddenly and my fury dissolves. I love to run. This I remember.

I'm still smiling when Aro bends to retrieve something from underneath the bed. He straightens and unfolds a grey walking frame. My eyes widen in horror and I forget about running. "I am _not _using that!"

"Come, Leah, we must not let pride compromise our recovery."

_We. Our._ I don't miss Aro's casual use of the plural. I snarl at him but grip the handles tightly when he places the walker in front of me. It is sturdy and bears my weight easily. Glaring angrily at it, I use the walker to move towards the door, and then wait silently for Aro to swing it open. "Thanks," I mutter, only half-sarcastic, but I choke on the word and it comes out like a growl. My nose and throat still burn from his stench.

Aro leads me down a stone hallway. Glowing torches light our path. I am slow, and it is a long time before we pass by another room. When we do, Aro stops outside and allows me a moment's rest. A sheen of sweat dampens my forehead. I lean on my walker, breathing heavily. My calf muscles ache and my bare feet protest against the cold stone floor. Aro gives me an approving nod, though, and something like pride stirs inside me.

I grit my teeth, preparing to move again, but a door opens a few metres to our left and I freeze. A large figure dressed in grey steps out into the hallway and walks toward us. He covers the distance quickly and towers above Aro and me, vast and daunting. I know his name. Felix. Another leech. He grins down at me with slightly lopsided lips. Black hair cropped short blends strangely with his pale olive skin. I shift uncomfortably, wishing I'd left the walker behind.

"Your training is finished?" Aro asks.

Felix nods, still grinning, and then gestures toward the door, which he has left open. "He's all yours." His voice is higher than I am expecting.

"Excellent," Aro murmurs. "Leah, be a dear and wait here with Felix."

I don't want to wait here with Felix, and I watch Aro go with unease. Felix is looking at me, though, and I lift my head stubbornly.

"Finally woke up did we?" he teases.

I bare my teeth. I can't shake the feeling that he's laughing at me.

Felix clicks his tongue. "Is this any way to treat your friends, Leah?"

_Friends_? I blink and appraise Felix. His smile doesn't falter as he holds my gaze. Could he really be my friend? I glare at him and he winks back. My skin crawls. No, Felix isn't my friend. My eyes travel over his bulk. _Enemy_, my mind hisses. I flinch. I don't know where the thought comes from, but it feels right. Felix is my enemy.

My head turns suddenly then because I can hear Aro's voice from down the hallway. There is another voice too. Clean, devoid of accent or inflection… My pulse quickens and a lump forms inside my throat. I push thoughts of Felix aside as I start moving towards the open door. Slowly still, but I'm going as fast as I can.

"I'm not training her," the voice says. "Assign her somebody else."

"I have assigned her _you_."

"Don't be foolish!"

"Are you questioning my judgment, Demetri?"

_Demetri. _A bronzed face. Pale. Dark hair that falls in his eyes.

I can hear the pulse beating behind my ears. I'm breathing too quickly now. The voices fall silent but I keep moving, pushing through the burning in my legs. When I'm outside the room with the voices, though, I stop. I can smell all three of them now: Felix, who hasn't moved from where I left him, Aro, whose scent has never really left me since I awoke… and _him_. The face from my memory.


	3. When She Beholds

**WHEN SHE BEHOLDS**

_When he kisses me this time, his lips are soft. They barely brush mine before he pulls away. I draw a shaky breath._

"_I'm sorry," he murmurs, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I should have asked before I did that."_

"_Since when do you ask?" I whisper._

"_Since tonight. From now onwards, I promise to _earn_ your kisses."_

_I bite my lower lip. "That's two promises you've made now."_

"Leah?" Aro's voice brings me back to the present. He's standing in the open doorway, his brow furrowed with concern. I touch his hand before he can reach for mine. "I see," he says quietly.

I try to look past Aro's shoulder into the training room, but all I can see is a thin silver pole and the stone wall behind it. "He's inside?"

Aro doesn't answer. He doesn't have to. He shifts to the side, allowing me entry. I take a deep breath. A few moments pass before I will myself to move. I do eventually, though, even as my thoughts writhe uneasily with the new memory.

I step through the doorway and suck in a sharp breath. _He's_ not looking at me though. His eyes are trained on Aro. Red. Fierce. _Angry_. He's tall, his body that of a fighter. Like the other vampires I've seen, his face is beautiful but he has none of Alec's loveliness or Aro's satisfaction. Hard lines define his features, which are softened only slightly by the tousled waves of black hair that fall over his forehead and the dark, angled brows which overhang his crimson eyes. A knot twists itself in my stomach and I wipe sweaty palms on my gown.

Aro places a hand on my shoulder. "Your student," he says to Demetri.

I see the muscles tense in Demetri's face as he clenches his jaw and inclines his head. "Master," he says through gritted teeth. His eyes don't leave Aro's.

"Wonderful!" Aro exclaims. "See to it that you make Leah feel welcome!" He chuckles and then turns to leave, squeezing my shoulder briefly before letting it go. I'm not sure I want Aro gone. I turn and watch his retreating figure, listening carefully as two sets of footsteps fade from the hallway.

"They're gone," Demetri says a few seconds later and I swing back around to face him. His features have lost none of their anger. Strangely, I'm grateful for his cool manner; it places little pressure on me to respond appropriately. I don't know what to make of him. I must have liked him well enough once, to kiss him, but my body remembers that better than my mind does. My heart still races in response to his proximity, but I'm not sure that I like him much better than I do Felix.

"I don't care who trains me," I say. "I can train myself. I just want to be done with this damned thing!" I kick at the legs of the walking frame.

"You will be, soon enough. You heal quickly."

His comment distracts me. I look at the back of my hand, where I ripped out the cannula. The skin there is smooth and intact. There is no sign of the needle's entry point. I think then of my list of injuries and Aro's earlier words. _Ten days. Your muscles are weak from disuse._ Ten days. Weak from disuse. Physically, that's all that's wrong with me. I'm no doctor but I know that broken bones don't heal in as little as ten days. "So it would seem," I mutter under my breath, examining the rest of my body now. From what I can see, I'm not even bruised.

I look around me now for the first time. It's a fight between my body and my mind – my body strains to turn and study Demetri; my mind wants to examine the training room. My mind wins. There are shining silver poles, each of varying degrees of thickness, spread across the room. They reach from the floor to the ceiling and there appears to be no order or logic to their placement. The room is large; it could easily have once been ten separate rooms that have had their walls knocked out. Several weight machines stand in the far right corner, sleek and glossy, like they've never been used. The floor around the rest of the room is scattered with clutter: rocks, pieces of broken furniture, rusted metal railings, steel planks… all of it looks heavy.

"You were training Felix in here?" I ask. For some reason this seems important. It's not, I know that, but I can't think of anything else to say anyway.

Demetri shrugs. His anger has been replaced by an impassive mask. "I was training him. He was training me. Who really knows anymore?"

I nod and then look over at the weight machines. "Can I use those?"

"Not today," Demetri replies, following my gaze. "_Your_ training starts tomorrow."

I'm a little put out by his response – I'd decided, after all, to begin today – but I'm also tiring quickly. I put up a weak fight. "Aro said –"

"Aro has his own agenda," Demetri says, cutting me off. "If you want to regain your strength then you need to eat and rest before you start doing weights. Nourish your body before you abuse it."

I should protest, but I don't. I'm not hungry, but he makes a good point. They must have been feeding me through tubes for the past ten days and eating properly again will be a training task in itself.

"Fine," I agree, but the word seethes a little on my tongue.

Demetri studies me for a moment and, disconcerted, I drop my gaze. "Sorry," he says quietly. Before I can respond, he nods towards the still-open door. "May I show you to your bedroom?"

The sudden change in his demeanor throws me, but I decide to overlook it at the expense of a more pressing matter. "I don't want to go back there," I tell him. I sound childish, but my stomach churns at the thought of the windowless room with the I.V. bag and the wooden floorboards.

Demetri's eyebrows pull together, forming a crease in the centre of his forehead. "I want to take you to your _bedroom_, Leah. Not to the hospital."

My face burns when he says my name. "The hospital?" I ask. I'm staring at Demetri's shoulder and avoiding his gaze.

"It's more of a recovery room, really. We had no need of a hospital until you came along."

"Right," I reply, because it seems like the correct thing to say. My mind, though, makes little sense of his words. "Let's go to my bedroom, then."

"After you, then," Demetri says, gesturing towards the hallway.

I turn my walker around and take a few steps. I'm not sure if I'm imagining it because of Demetri's comment, but my legs feel stronger. Not strong enough to support my weight on their own, but _stronger_. My mind doesn't though; it seems to have become heavy all of a sudden. Or maybe it was always heavy and I was just too distracted to notice. Demetri directs me down the hallway in the direction Aro and I came from earlier and I shuffle along slowly. He walks silently beside me, his scent stronger now that he's so close. I don't find it quite as repulsive as the other scents I've been exposed to – it's cleaner somehow, not so cloying – but it still burns my nose. I do my best to breathe through my mouth.

I shiver when we pass by the hospital but Demetri says nothing. At the end of the corridor, we turn left and arrive at the silver doors of an elevator. It's already on our floor and the doors slide open moments after Demetri presses the call button. Once inside, he sends the lift to the fifth floor.

"There are ten floors in the castle," he tells me. "Six of them are above ground. This lift only goes as far as the fifth."

I nod. My thoughts are beginning to cloud and I can't find it in me to care about floors and elevators.

The elevator moves slowly, groaning as it rises. I stare at my feet. When the doors eventually slide open, Demetri waits for me to exit the lift and then follows me out into a carpeted corridor with white walls and a high ceiling.

"We're nearly there," he murmurs.

There are no doors to my left and so I count them on my right. We stop outside the third door – cream-coloured, with a silver doorknob – and Demetri pushes it open. There's a large double bed with a patterned blue bedcover pushed up against the far wall. Behind it, cream-coloured curtains conceal what I hope to be a window. No light shines behind the curtains though. There's another door with a silver doorknob to my left and a chest of drawers stands on my right. I'm too exhausted to study the room further. I maneuver my walker to the edge of the bed and collapse on top of the mattress.

I breathe in and freeze. The bedspread is laced with Demetri's and my scent. I start to shake. It is a few seconds before I look up. Demetri is standing, unmoving, in the doorway. "Demetri?" I whisper. He lifts his brow. I don't ask the question on my mind. "How long is it until tomorrow?"

"Three hours," he says, "give or take." His voice is quiet. "Can I bring you something to eat?" he asks. I nod and he turns to leave. He's almost out of the door when he pauses. "Leah?" he asks, keeping his back turned. "Do you remember me?"

I don't answer and he leaves a few seconds later. When I hear the elevator doors slide closed behind him, I kick the bedcovers off the bed and lie on top of a pale blue sheet. I close my eyes and breathe in hesitantly. The sheet smells like rose-scented laundry powder.

When Demetri returns, he doesn't even look at the patterned bedcover lying in a rumpled heap on the floor. He places a tray at the bottom of my bed and runs a hand through his unkempt hair. "I'll leave you now," he says. "You should rest." He goes without another word.

I'm glad when he's gone. I'm afraid of the question he asked me and I can't think straight anyway. I sit up and study the tray of food at the foot of my bed. There's a sandwich lying on a square plate and a small glass of water beside it. I pick up the sandwich and hold it to my nose. Cheese and jam. My favourite. I barely register that I've remembered another fact about myself as I bite into it. It's delicious; the flavour is fresh on my tongue, but I'm full after just a few mouthfuls. I sip the water and then place the tray and half-eaten sandwich on the floor. I fall asleep, just seconds later, on the rose-scented sheets.

(* * *)

When I wake the next morning, the first thing I do is scour my hands and arms for cannulas. I'm clear. And I'm alone. It's different this time, too, because my head is finally clear of its fog. My mind runs over yesterday's events; they're hazy, like a dream, but it's enough for me to panic. I sit up and try to swallow the hysteria building inside me. I have amnesia. I have amnesia and I'm in a castle full of vampires.

I stand up on the bed and yank the curtains aside. For a moment, sunlight blinds me and then my eyes adjust and I'm able to see beyond the glass. There are buildings outside, and cobblestone alleyways. My fingers frantically search the window's edge for a latch but there is none. A sudden urge overwhelms me to break the glass and jump out into the streets below, like I've jumped from this height hundreds of times before. It's beyond foolish though. I'm, what, five floors up? Even a quick healer like me can't recover from a move like that. At the thought of healing, I look down. My legs are holding me up just fine.

I'm still wearing the pale pink gown. It didn't bother me yesterday in my somewhat deadened state, but it does now. I hate pink. I turn around and leap off the bed, landing on slightly wobbly legs. My eyes find the chest of drawers I noticed last night and I rush toward it, pulling open the top drawer when I get there with greater force than necessary. Clothes. There are piles of them. And they're mine. I _remember_ them. My hands brush the chest's surface. The wood is rough and familiar. I breathe in its simple aroma. It doesn't calm me, but it feels good to think about something other than the emptiness where my memories used to be.

I don't know what to do. I don't know how to find myself again. I'm desperate, but I don't know what for. My hands are curling into fists and I'm holding back a scream.

So different to yesterday. This feels so different to yesterday.

_He touches me. His fingers pause for a moment and then he strokes my skin. His knuckles brush my cheek, my lips… His touch is confident, assured. The opposite of what I'm feeling inside. "You're beautiful, Leah," he tells me._

_I frown and pull away. "I'd rather be something useful. Like smart."_

_He laughs. "Okay, fine," he concedes. "You're smart. Smart _and_ beautiful."_

I blink and slam the drawer shut. I feel trapped. Trapped in my own head. Trapped in memories I don't understand. A knock sounds behind me and I spin around.

"May I come in?" It's Demetri. I don't need to hear his voice to know. I can tell by the sudden pounding in my chest.

"Yes," I say. My tone is clipped with agitation and fear.

The door opens. Yesterday's meeting did not prepare me for this. I'm ambushed when I inhale his scent, when I see his skin reflecting the sunlight from the window. So different to yesterday. Everything is so different to yesterday. A growl rips fiercely through my teeth. Two beings within me war, two parts of a whole, each as harsh and as real as the other.

I don't know where it comes from. Something savage, something brutal inside me, wants to rip Demetri's throat and tear apart his limbs. I can see it now: my body flying to meet his, my teeth sinking into his stony flesh… I can feel pieces of him breaking apart in my mouth.

But I can also feel his lips on mine.

He's ten feet away, but I can feel his knuckles brush against my cheek, his arm around my waist. I can feel his fingers tangled in my hair. And I can taste him. I can taste his sweet breath as he kisses me softly, gently…

My body is rigid. I can feel Demetri's kisses but the monster inside me still strains to break free. I'm powerless to contain it, to prevent its brutality from escaping my every pore. Flames lick at my spine. I'm a slave to their fury. I'm going to kill him.

But nothing happens. The monster doesn't break free. It thrashes inside me, but it can't find a way out.

"Leah, please stop hurting yourself."

The words distract me. I look down. My hands are curled into fists and my palms are bleeding from where I've pressed my nails into the skin. I splay my fingers and watch with wonder as the skin heals over. I wipe the blood on my gown and look up at Demetri. "I'm not human," I say warily. Didn't I already know this?

"No."

I think back to yesterday. I didn't have this reaction then. Not even when I realised Felix was my enemy. I was strangely calm, numb even. What was different about yesterday? I hiss. "What did you _do_ to me?"

Demetri's features harden. "I'm sorry?"

"I had an I.V. in when I woke up yesterday," I say coldly. "You drugged me."

Demetri exhales slowly. "You were anaesthetized," he tells me, "to minimise the stress upon waking."

My mouth falls open. "Stress?" Is that what they call this monster inside me?

"The Volturi are your natural enemies, Leah. With the injuries you sustained to your brain, we weren't certain how you'd react when you woke up."

I press the monster down. I don't know how, but I do. It drains me of energy. I close my eyes and breathe in. "I remember you," I say, finally answering last night's question. It doesn't relate to Demetri's revelation, but I say it anyway.

Demetri looks at me for a long while before he answers. "But not well enough."

"No," I agree. "Not well enough."

Demetri sighs. He must realise that I've beaten the monster. For now at least. "Do you still wish to begin training today?"

I press my lips together. Yesterday, with my mind clouded and my legs weak, training was vital. It was the only thing I knew how to strive for. Today, though, my head is clear. "No," I tell Demetri. Today I want answers.


	4. When She Questions

**WHEN SHE QUESTIONS**

The water breaks against my face, pulls at the tangles in my hair, spills down my back in a hot, cleansing cascade. If I close my eyes, it's like rain. I tilt my face upwards and breathe in the steam that rises from where the water ricochets off my skin. I feel the droplets strike my lips. I feel them fall across my eyelashes.

I'm taking my time in the shower, washing my body three times, shampooing my hair twice. My hair's almost to my shoulders. I can tell by the split ends that it hasn't been cut in a while. I'm going to cut it when I get the chance. I don't like the feeling of hair against my neck. It feels too feminine somehow, too _soft_. I frown, trying to understand my reaction. It's not that I don't _want_ to be feminine, I don't think, I'm just... not. There's something in me that's undeserving of the description. Demetri called me beautiful once. I scowled and said that I'd rather be smart. But at the time I'd _felt _beautiful. The memory must have been distorted by time, though, because I'm not beautiful. And I could never _feel _beautiful.

I am Leah. I'm dangerous. I love to run. My favourite sandwich filling is cheese and jam. I am not feminine. I am not beautiful.

Not all of the facts I remember about myself are nice.

I climb out of the shower and stand on a dusted beige floor mat. There's a clean set of clothes lying on the floor next to the locked bathroom door: denim shorts and a baggy white t-shirt that I took from the chest of drawers. I pull the clothes on without drying myself first and unlock the door. It leads back into the bedroom. _My _bedroom. Once I'm inside, I sit on the bed and wait. Demetri gave me an hour. Most of it has been used up by my shower.

I shower, I eat, and then _he_ talks. That was our agreement.

When Demetri knocks on my door minutes later, I stand up. He walks in and I'm prepared. The monster inside me makes a reappearance, but I bind it tightly and throw it into the most distant recesses of my mind. It's easier this time, now that I'm expecting it. Besides, even the monster in me knows that Demetri has the answers I need. I'm afraid of the things he'll tell me, and of how I'll respond, but I need to know who I am and where I come from. I swallow and stare at him.

He holds another tray of food and I'm suddenly starving. I can smell bacon and eggs. He places the tray at the foot of my bed and then moves to stand by the door. I lean forward and pull the tray towards me. I can feel Demetri's gaze, but I ignore him. I don't bother with the knife and fork he brought me. I barely chew the food and it burns my throat on the way down. Despite my hunger, I only eat half before I'm full.

I push the tray away and look up expectantly. I've held up my end of the bargain and now it's his turn. "I'm done," I say.

"And now you want me to answer your questions."

"Yes."

Demetri's eyes scan the room for a long moment before he looks at me again. "I need to warn you about something first," he tells me. I can't read the expression on his face.

My throat feels thick. I don't know if it's because of Demetri or because of the things I'm about to ask him. "Warn me about what?"

He takes some time to respond. "You're going to learn things about your past, Leah," he finally says. "Things you don't remember." His eyes are locked on mine. I don't think I could look away even if I wanted to. There is something intense in his gaze, like these words are more important than anything else he's going to tell me. His eyes tighten and he continues. "Knowing the things that happened to you – the things that you did – and not being able to remember them... it's damaging. It's enough to break you if you let it."

The monster inside me isn't quite buried. It growls. _I _growl. "What are you playing at?" I demand. It's like he's trying to talk me out of questioning him. Like he thinks I'm better off without my past.

"You need to be prepared."

"I _am_ prepared!"

And just like that, his mask comes down. His features relax and his voice becomes flat. _Like a robot_, I think. But he's not like a robot at all. With his smooth skin and expressionless voice, Demetri is unattainably beautiful. I'm aware of my heart's every beat. "Very well," he says. "What do you want to know?"

I try to match his tone. "I want to know what happened to me" I state. "How was I injured?"

"You were attacked," he tells me. Stoic. Emotionless.

I want to ask by who, but the 'who' changes to a 'what' somewhere between my brain and my lips.

I'm expecting his reply when he tells me that my attacker was a vampire. He pauses and then elaborates. "You were attacked by a member of the Volturi guard."

I nod, but I'm fighting to remain calm. The monster inside me stirs. "Who?" I ask, my voice a little hoarse.

For the briefest of moments, Demetri's eyes flash. And then his mask returns. "His name was Santiago. He's since been executed."

I manage to keep my voice steady. "Because he attacked me?"

Demetri nods. "He was killed on Aro's orders. Felix and I were given the honours."

For the first time, I allow myself to contemplate the place in which I'm living. Aro. Alec. Felix. Demetri. Those are just the vampires I've met. There are others. Others I don't remember. And they're my natural enemies. Demetri said so himself. "The others?" I ask hesitantly. I can't bring myself to shape the question explicitly.

Demetri understands what I'm asking though. "You're a member of the guard too, Leah. You won't be attacked again."

"Right," I say, but it's not just my safety that's bothering me. I wanted to _kill _Demetri. A part of me still wants to kill him. And if that's how I feel about _him_, then how will I react to the others? How could I be _one_ of them? I swallow. "Why?" I ask. "Why did I choose to join the Volturi?"

Despite his masked expression, it's not difficult to hear the pride in Demetri's reply. "Nobody chooses the Volturi," he says. "The Volturi chooses _you_."

For some reason, his answer bothers me. I swallow my aversion though and ask the easier question first. "Why did they choose you?"

"Because I'm the best there is." There is no arrogance in his response. He says it like it's a fact, like he's telling me the day of the week.

"At what?"

"At tracking. I can find anybody in the world."

I wonder why I didn't already know this about him the same way I knew about Aro's mind reading. The information feels entirely new. I want to ask him about it, but I don't. I have other, more pressing questions first.

"And why did they choose me?"

"Because," Demetri says, "you are one of a kind."

My muscles tense. I finally ask the question I've wanted to ask all along. "What am I, Demetri?"

His eyes search mine before he answers. He breathes in and then speaks. "You're a shape-shifter, Leah. You can take on the form of a wolf."

I take a step backwards. He's telling the truth. I don't remember it so much as I _feel_ it. The monster inside me – no, the _wolf _inside me – has been roused by his words. It stretches its limbs into my own, filling me, enveloping me, and it bares its teeth. It is me and I am it. I am Leah. I'm dangerous. I love to run. I am not feminine. I am not beautiful. I am a shape-shifter.

I am a wolf.

"I want to kill you," I growl. I don't know if I'm warning him or threatening him.

Demetri doesn't move. "I know."

I grit my teeth. Every part of me feels like it's on fire. I spit my next question at Demetri. "How could I have _joined_ you?" The wolf in me snarls at the thought.

"It's your instinct to hate us, Leah. Without your memories, your instinct is all you have."

If I could just remember my past, then my memories would overpower my natural hatred of the Volturi. That's what Demetri's saying. I _do _remember some things though. And the part of me that remembers Demetri doesn't want to kill him. The trouble is, the stronger the wolf grows, the more that the part of me that doesn't want him dead pales in the shadow of its wrath. And I can't tell whether or not that's a bad thing.

"_You can't love me, Leah. Not when you know what I am."_

"_I don't care what you are," I whisper._

_His eyes are tortured. I've never seen him like this before. "I'm a monster!" he cries. _

"_It doesn't matter to me," I tell him firmly. "You're still you. And I love you no matter what you are."_

There it is. I loved him. That's how, when my natural instinct was to hate them, I could join the Volturi. That's why, when they chose me, I chose them back.

My head throbs. I sit back down on the bed and stare at the blank wall in front of me. Demetri doesn't move; I can feel him there, standing just outside my line of sight. "I think you should go," I say eventually. "I don't have any more questions."

He leaves without a word. I don't watch him go. The truth is that I still have so many questions I can't bring myself to ask. I feel strangely empty, like there's something in me that's missing. Like I've lost something I can't recall. Like time has snatched away memories of whatever it is that's gone. But then it doesn't really matter anyway because the sense of loss remains.

I am Leah. I am not beautiful. I am not feminine. I am a wolf. I am broken.

I stand, deciding what I want to do, and walk to the chest of drawers. I open pull the top drawer, although I'm sure all it contains is clothes. I shove them furiously to the side and feel along the bottom of the drawer. My fingers are frantic, searching. There's nothing there. I thrust the drawer closed and open the next one. It contains a few odd pieces: an open packet of gum, an unlabeled CD, a scrawled shopping list, a pair of sunglasses, a twisted cord necklace with a pink tear-drop pendant... I slam it shut; it doesn't contain what I'm looking for. The next two drawers are empty. I cry out in frustration and decide to check the bathroom.

There's a white cupboard in the bathroom underneath a square mirror. I look inside and pull out an opened packet of cheap disposable razor blades. They're not ideal, but they're all that I've got. I slide one out of the packet and stare at myself in the mirror. I look unwell. My damp hair is ragged and unkempt. My face is gaunt and my cheekbones prominent. There are dark rings underneath my eyes. I take a deep breath and with a steady, determined hand, I lift the razor blade to my hair.

It falls at my feet in jagged ebony locks. I use six blades. I don't stop. Not until my hair sticks out in short, uneven spikes. My reflection stares back at me; her eyes are resolute and stubborn. _This is me_, I think._ This is _me.

I leave the hair on the floor. I walk into the bedroom without looking back and then continue into the carpeted corridor, pulling the bedroom door closed behind me. I turn left and arrive, moments later, at the elevator Demetri and I rode yesterday. I press the call button and while I wait for it to arrive, I look around me. The hallway isn't very long; there's only one other door after mine, on the left of the hallway. I've definitely been here before, and not just yesterday.

When I step inside the lift, I pause. I don't actually know where I'm going. I rule my options out one by one. I don't want to go back to the hospital. I don't want to go back to my bedroom. I don't want to go wandering around a castle full of vampires. I think of the cobblestone alleyways outside and press number '1', hoping that that's where it'll take me.

After a short ride, the elevator doors slide open to reveal an extravagantly decorated lobby. The floor is tiled with a large, marble mosaic, and the far wall hung with abstract paintings of green and gold. Thick square pillars line the adjacent wall and interrupt a polished marble counter. No less than three chandeliers hang from the wide ceiling, lighting the entrance hall with a soft glow.

There's a tasteful set of double doors to my right; daylight shines between the doors and the floor. I walk towards them and push open the left door. I'm half expecting it to be locked, but it swings open easily. I find myself at the top of a set of stone steps. Sunlight warms my skin and my eyes water as they adjust to the light. I'm outside.

The entrance to the castle is situated in a quiet, simple street. I turn left and follow the street as it curves loosely to the right. The buildings here have a medieval feel to them; the greys and browns blend to give the street an inviting yet imposing quality. I reach a junction in the road and turn left again. This street is a little busier. Small knots of people make their way into and out of the cafes and boutiques that line the road. I continue down the street, staring mostly at the grey cobblestone beneath my feet. I feel alien amongst the people here. I am separate from them. _Other_.

I walk for another hour, but in the end I have no place to go but back to the castle. It's all I have in the world.

The lobby is not empty when I return. Aro stands, as if waiting for me, directly underneath the largest of the three chandeliers. He wears a black, floor-length cloak. The door swings shut behind me. I tense, waiting for the wolf in me to attack, but nothing stirs inside me.

"Leah!" he exclaims warmly. "I was wondering when you'd return. I trust you have had a good walk?" He begins to move toward me and I stiffen. The nearer Aro comes, though, the calmer I feel. It's the opposite of what I'm expecting.

"You lied to me," I accuse, keeping my eyes trained on his. My words don't sound angry, though, not the way I intended them to. "The I.V. you inserted wasn't for pain medication."

Aro stops in front of me with his hands outstretched. I don't hesitate; it's the wrong reaction, but I place my hands in his. He sighs. "I did not wish to tell you the truth whilst you were still under the effects of the anaesthetic, Leah, my child. It was wrong of me to lie to you but I had only your best interests at heart." He appears genuinely apologetic.

I withdraw my hands and look down. "It's okay," I mumble. I'm suddenly ashamed of the accusation in my tone. Aro is right. Of course he couldn't tell me the truth yesterday. Who knows how I would have reacted in my numbed state?

I look back up. I feel strangely at ease; I'm contented somehow. I shouldn't feel this way, not now that the anaesthetic has worn off. My instinct should be to kill Aro, and without my memories, my instinct is all I've got. Demetri's explanation makes sense. It should apply now, but it doesn't. I remember almost nothing about Aro and yet there is nothing in me that wants to kill him.

"You cut your hair," Aro says then. He isn't surprised; he's seen the whole thing in my head, after all.

"Demetri told me what I am," I tell him. The words are not an explanation, but for some reason they feel like one.

"Yes," Aro says. "You are special."

I stare at him: at his white, chalky skin that's almost translucent like an onion's; at his long, straight black hair; at his red, milky eyes. He's handsome more than he is beautiful.

I am Leah. I am a wolf. I am broken. _I am special_.

Strangely enough, I almost believe him.

"Come, Leah," Aro murmurs. He drapes an arm around my shoulders and leads me back outside to the stone steps. He sits down suddenly, his hood pulled up to shield his face from the sunlight, and after a moment's hesitation, I sit down too. I stare at Aro curiously. He looks odd, sitting on the steps next to me, like something majestic descended from his kingdom. "You still have many questions," he says.

I nod stiffly. "I tried to ask Demetri about my past this morning," I utter softly, though Aro knows this already.

His voice is just as quiet when he responds. "You gave up rather quickly."

"It was... difficult," I say.

Aro sighs delicately. "For both of you," he agrees. Before I can try to understand his words, he continues. "Leah, you are like a child to me," he says, "and I will do everything in my power to help you."

I don't think I believe him, not really, but his voice soothes me and his words calm me, and it's difficult to trust my doubts when this is the first time I've felt at ease since waking up. "Then tell me who I am," I whisper.

Aro grasps one of my hands and stares at a decrepit building across the street from where we sit. And then he speaks. He tells me that I grew up on a Washington reservation called La Push. I'm a member of the Native American Quileute tribe and I have a younger brother, Seth. I was 20 years old when I phased. A few years after phasing, I left La Push to go to college in Washington. I was completing my science major in genetics when I met Demetri.

I don't realise I'm shaking my head and biting my clenched fist until Aro pauses and touches my cheek. "This is hard for you to hear," he says.

I draw a thin breath. Some of what he's told me is familiar. Most of it is isn't. "Do my family know I'm here?" I ask. My voice shakes. I don't remember Seth. I don't remember anything about La Push. Even the name sounds foreign.

"Leah," Aro says carefully, "you're not in contact with your Quileute family anymore."

I drop my clenched fist. I can feel tears pricking the backs of my eyes, but I don't let them fall. It's easy to stop them. I must have had a lot of practice in the past. Maybe I should press the matter of my family, but I don't. I don't want to hear why I'm not in contact with them anymore. Demetri warned me about this, I realise. He said that learning things about your past can be damaging. I grit my teeth. I'm not going to let this damage me, I decide. I'm determined to hold the pieces of myself together.

"Would you like me to tell you anything more?" Aro asks gently.

"I think I can guess the rest," I say. "I fell in love with Demetri. That's why I came here. That's why I stayed."

Aro eyes me quietly. "Yes," he finally says. "You stayed for more than Demetri, though, Leah. You stayed because we're your family."

* * *

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed _When She Wakes_. I'm so grateful and encouraged each time I read your kind words.**


	5. When She Learns

**WHEN SHE LEARNS**

When we leave the stone steps, Aro leads me to an elevator situated near the one I'd ridden earlier; I hadn't noticed it before. I'm nervous, although I shouldn't be. I requested this after all. He's taking me to meet the rest of the Volturi. They're not meeting me. They already know me. _I'm_ meeting _them_.

This elevator moves much more quickly than the other one. We ascend two floors and exit the lift in a plain but brightly lit corridor. Aro drops his hood but doesn't remove the black cloak. We round a sharp corner and find ourselves in a classy reception area. I'm barefoot; I can feel the thick emerald green carpet beneath my toes. There are no windows here, but large paintings of the countryside line the paneled walls and take their place. Small clusters of pale leather couches border square wooden tables with vases of flowers that envelop the room in their sweet, clinging perfume. In the middle of the room, there's a high mahogany desk. There's a set of wooden doors set into the far right hand wall. We move towards those and stop when we're outside.

"Are you sure that this is what you want, Leah?" Aro asks carefully. He looks contented though, like my request has pleased him.

I nod but say nothing. After all, there's nothing I'm sure about in the world. Aro pushes open the door and leads me inside.

I freeze. The door has swung shut behind me and I press my back up against it. My eyes scan the room and I tally the vampires in front of me. Twenty-seven. Twenty-seven pairs of crimson eyes that watch me. I suck in a breath. Their collective scent burns not just my throat but my stomach and my lungs too. They're frozen, like me, but theirs is a comfortable suspense, like they're waiting patiently for me to make the first move.

They're my family, Aro said. They're my _family_. I want to accept that. But I'm not strong enough for this.

I feel the pressure building inside me. The wolf labors to break free. It fills me, straining to release its ferocity on the leeches before me. And despite Aro's calming influence beside me, in this moment, I can't help but _want _it to break free. I _try_ to let it escape me. I make myself as small as I can. I press my humanity to the very edges of my existence and let the wolf fill me further. It doesn't break out though and I don't know how to let it.

A snort breaks the silence and my eyes flash to the large leech standing in the far left corner. Felix. "Nice hair," he snickers.

A feral snarl rips through my teeth and I lunge towards him. Human limitations or not, I'm going to kill him.

But _his_ hand grabs mine before I reach Felix. I swing around and look into Demetri's blood-stained eyes.

"_Tell me again how I'm the most handsome guy you've ever met!" He's holding my hands in his and spinning me around._

"_You're certainly the most modest," I laugh, pulling my hands away and wrapping my arms around his neck. I try to kiss him but he leans away. "Fine," I grumble. "You're the most handsome guy I've ever met."_

_He grins and presses his hot lips to mine._

Demetri's touching me. I can feel his cold, hard hand wrapped around my own. There's nothing romantic in his touch. It's not restraining either. It's something else. Protective maybe? I don't know. I'm not sure if he's trying to protect me from myself or from the other vampires.

With Demetri so close, with his skin touching mine, it's harder for me to keep the wolf prominent in my being. It's still there – I can feel it – but other things begin to draw my attention from its bloodlust. My racing heart; my quick, shallow breaths; the twisting and churning in my stomach…

"Felix," he says. "Jane, Caius, Marcus, Chelsea, Afton, Alec, Heidi, Renata…" He lists the names of the vampires without looking at them. I stare at them, but I don't see them. Not really. Not when all I can feel is Demetri.

When he's finished, I look back up at him. "Why can't I phase?" I ask desperately. I'm not calm. His touch has distracted me, but it hasn't calmed me.

His jaw tightens and he lifts his head to look around the room at the others. "Please leave us," he says. His voice is low and threatening. No one argues. Aro is the last to leave and I don't miss the satisfied glance he throws Demetri's way before walking out the door. Once we're alone, Demetri turns back to me. He's still holding my hand. "You can't phase," he tells me.

"I _know _that!" I hiss angrily. "_Why _can't I phase? What am I doing wrong?"

"No, Leah," he says slowly. "You _can't _phase. You have a gene-silencing pump implanted in your lower abdomen."

I feel like I've been slapped. "What are you talking about?" I manage to ask, but I know what he's talking about. His words bring back wisps of my past. That's when I realise why Demetri took my hand. He's not protecting me after all. He's trying to keep me from breaking apart.

"Can I show you something, Leah?"

I nod numbly. He leads me back into the reception area and through the brightly lit corridor. We take the slow lift back to the carpeted hallway, but Demetri walks past my bedroom and opens the only door to our left. It's cream-coloured, with a silver door-knob just like all the other doors on this floor. Still holding my hand, Demetri leads me inside.

I look around. We're in a sort of study. There's an oak desk set in the corner of the room and a bookshelf filled with science textbooks and magazines. They're mine, I realise. I don't wait for Demetri to show me. I drop his hand and walk to the desk, picking up the sheets of paper lying on its surface. I recognise my handwriting. There are chemical formulas written on the pages and untidy hand-drawn diagrams of triangular pumps and immune cells and molecular receptors that look like television antennas. I turn to the bookshelf and pull out a thick black folder. There are pages and pages of notes inside. _My_ notes.

My hand hovers over my abdomen, where the pump sits inside me. I don't remember having an operation to implant the device. I do remember these notes though. I remember spending hours and hours at my desk, poring over the latest genetic research journals. I remember long nights spent in the college research labs. I remember the hope that surged inside me each time I developed a new variant of the gene silencer. I remember injecting prototype after prototype of the drug into my thigh. And I remember my despair each time the drug failed. I couldn't implant the pump, not until I created a drug that successfully stopped my phase.

"I… succeeded?" I breathe.

"You came close. I perfected your formula," Demetri says. He's standing, looking at the notes over my shoulder. I flick to the back of the folder and see a handful of pages written in a hand other than my own. I turn around and stare at him. He shrugs and says simply, "I have four science degrees."

I don't let his words throw me. "Why?" I ask in a low voice. "Why did I want to prevent myself from phasing?" _This_ I don't remember.

Demetri cocks his head to the side. "I suppose you just wanted to have a say in what you are."

"And I chose this," I murmur to myself, looking back at the folder. I chose to deny the wolf. I chose to be human.

Demetri shifts beside me. He pulls a textbook from the bookshelf – called simply _Human Genetics_ – and flicks absently through the pages. He's not really looking at them. I watch him warily; he seems frustrated. After a few minutes, he slams the book shut and places it on the desk. "If you decide that this isn't what you want anymore, Leah," he says, staring at me, "I'll take the pump out myself."

I lift my eyebrows. "How many medical degrees do you have?" I ask wryly. It's not really funny, I know that.

A tight smile forms on Demetri's lips, but his answer is serious. "Three," he tells me.

"Go figure," I mutter. Then I ask something else. "We met while I was in college?"

Demetri nods, but his eyes blaze with something like anger. "Aro sent me to Washington to recruit you. You were using all of your spare time to develop the gene-silencer and I became something of a test subject. Towards the end, we worked on the drug together."

I bite the inside of my cheek. "A test subject?"

"It's very difficult for you to remain in your human form around vampires," Demetri replies. "What better way to test the drug than to use me?"

It makes sense. I nod. And then I say something I don't mean to. The words just leave me, like they've been waiting on my lips for a chance to escape. "Do you love me?" I ask Demetri. The words are so quiet; I can barely hear them myself.

He sighs. "Does it make any difference, Leah?"

"To what?"

"To anything."

"I remember loving _you_," I tell him. "And _that_ doesn't make any difference."

Demetri nods and his features are masked again like they were this morning. "You don't love me now. That's fine. I'm not asking you to."

"Good," I say. I remember Aro saying that this was difficult for Demetri too, and I almost apologize. Almost.

Demetri picks up the _Human Genetics _textbook again and places it back on the bookshelf. I watch him. We're interrupted by a knock on the door. Demetri glances at me and then moves forward to open it. Felix stands outside in the hallway with a smaller figure. At first I think it's Alec, but then I notice the lighter hair and the fuller lips. She's an angel, like just like Alec, and she's _tiny_ – especially next to Felix.

"Thought I'd give your girlfriend a tour of the castle," Felix says, grinning at me over Demetri's shoulder.

Demetri stiffens. "And Jane?" he asks.

The angel-faced girl smiles sweetly. "I decided to come too. The more the merrier, and all that."

Demetri looks back at me but I avoid his gaze. "Thanks," he says, "but we'll pass. I can show Leah around myself."

Felix shrugs. "Suit yourselves," he says.

I think of the pump inside me providing my body with a constant supply of gene-silencing drugs. I think of how I wanted this, of how I _chose_ this. I can feel the wolf inside me – it's as violent and as present as ever – but I'm able to separate myself from it now. I am _not_ it, and it is not me. _I _developed the technology to silence it. _I _am its master.

"No," I growl. "I'm fine. I'd like Felix and Jane to show me around." I say it because the castle is the only place I have, and because I might as well get used to the leeches around here.

Demetri shrugs and we follow Felix and Jane back to the elevator. He says nothing as Felix tells me that we are in the North tower, and that this, the fifth floor, belongs to Demetri. Jane frowns at this – her puckered brow is as beautiful as her smile – but she says nothing either.

We begin the tour in the lobby I'd discovered earlier. Felix calls it the face of the Volturi's business façade and tells Demetri to lighten up when he doesn't laugh along with what Felix apparently finds highly amusing. Jane smiles, but her eyes flicker between Demetri and I. From the lobby, we take the lift to the second floor and move slowly through a maze of corridors and hallways and rooms that each belong to a different member of the Volturi. Apparently, Demetri is the only vampire with his own _floor_.

I'm still slow, although my legs are supporting my weight easily now, and I can tell that this irritates Jane. She doesn't say anything though and I half wish that she would so that the insults hanging off my tongue would be justified.

I mostly keep quiet. The questions I do ask are clipped and cautious, but what I'm really doing is fighting the wolf in me enough to concentrate of the familiar strangeness of the castle. It's as if I dreamed of this place in my sleep once and I'm only now finding out that it actually exists.

We tour all of the towers except for the East. "It's where the wives live," Demetri tells me.

"The wives?"

"Sulpicia and Athenodora. Aro and Caius's mates. Mostly, they keep to themselves."

"Oh," I say. I don't remember the wives from the meeting this afternoon. The thought of Aro having a mate strikes me as odd for some reason.

We end the tour in the North tower, four floors beneath the lobby. It's where I woke up, in a bed with white sheets and an I.V. drip beside me. We don't go into the hospital, though, and I'm relieved when Felix takes us instead to the training room with the silver poles that reach from the floor to the ceiling. We toured a number of other training rooms, but this is the only one with the strange poles.

I look around me again and notice a large sheet of paper tacked to the back of the door. It's a list of names, each with one or more numbers written next to it. Most of the numbers have been crossed out and corrected in a thick black marker. I notice just two names though. The first, written halfway down the sheet, is 'Santiago'. It has a solid black line through it. The second, the very last name on the list, is 'Leah'. The numbers 100, 85, 115 and 130 are written next to my name, but 130 is the only figure that hasn't been crossed out.

"It's our points tally," Jane says, appearing beside me.

I look at her – she's regarding the list proudly – and turn back to the sheet of paper. The other names come into focus now. It's a list of the Volturi members. Only Aro, Marcus and the wives have a single 100 next to their names. The rest of the members have at least two or three crossed out figures next to theirs, and one final uncrossed number.

"We each start out with 100 points," Jane continues. "Some of us never bet, though, so our points don't ever change." Her eyes skim Aro's and Marcus's names.

"I have 130 points?" I ask curiously.

"Yes," Jane smirks. "And I have 680."

"What are they for?"

Felix answers me. "Bribes mostly," he says. "It's our currency in the castle. Aro has the final say when it comes to anything important, of course, but for the most part he lets us have our fun."

I turn around and my eyes narrow. "What kind of bribes?"

Felix points his thumb at Demetri and laughs. "How do you think _he_ managed to get a whole floor to himself?"

Demetri doesn't smile though.

I frown and stare at them. "You bribe each other for _castle space_?"

Jane rolls her eyes. "_Demetri_ bribes for castle space. The rest of us actually make use of our points."

"Some of us don't need to use our points for tasks," Demetri counters and Jane hisses angrily.

I want to ask what he means by 'tasks', but Felix speaks up before I get a chance. "How about a 10 pointer?" he asks Demetri, punching him lightly on the arm. "You know," he says nodding in my direction, "show your girlfriend you're more than just a pretty face."

For the first time, I see Demetri smile. Truly smile, I mean. Not just a tight-lipped imitation of the expression. "You're on," he grins.

And then Felix and Demetri begin to circle one another.

Jane nudges me and I look down to see her small outstretched hand. "Ten points Demetri's on his back within the minute."

I study Demetri. He moves carefully, assessing his opponent with cautious eyes. Felix looks strong, but Demetri is smarter, I think. "You're on," I say, echoing Demetri's words to Felix, and shake Jane's hand. We let go quickly.

The fight begins to unfold before us. Felix seems to be working on instinct alone, whilst it's clear that Demetri plans his moves in advance. _Brains vs. brawn_, I think to myself and I'm more invested in the fight than I care to admit. The wolf in me is even more captivated than I am. It growls inside me at the sight of its enemies' skill.

I learn what the silver poles are for. Demetri and Felix use them as a sort of propulsion device. They take a running leap, grab a pole and swing around it like they're flying. Then they let go. And their bodies hurtle across the room in whatever direction they choose. They use the clutter around the room too, mostly to throw at one another. It doesn't do any damage, of course, but sometimes it catches an opponent unawares and distracts them for a moment or two.

They haven't physically touched one another yet, though. Felix tries, but Demetri's quick and it soon becomes a game of cat and mouse. With each evasion, Felix gets a little more irritated and I guess at Demetri's strategy. He's provoking Felix until he becomes frustrated enough to make a mistake.

It happens suddenly then. One minute Demetri's swinging from a silver pole and the next his body contorts in mid-air. He lands hard on his back. And then he's standing again and eyeing Jane. I look at her. She's smiling innocently, but her eyes are dangerous.

"You should be more specific with your bets, Leah," she says to me, like she's giving me a compliment, and then she turns to the list on the door. She pulls a marker from her pocket and crosses out the 130 next to my name. She amends my points to 120 and then changes hers to 690.

Pain illusion. That's Jane's _gift_. I'm momentarily stunned by this, but Felix's shout of frustration makes me spin around before I can respond. I gasp at the ferocity of the wolf in me; it's livid that I wasn't watching Demetri and studying his moves. He has Felix pinned against a wall, his teeth at Felix's throat. It seems Jane's stunt distracted Felix more than it did Demetri, and she's not happy about it. She glares at them and then stalks from the room.

Demetri backs down and slaps Felix on the back, grinning again. "Nice try, brother."

Felix laughs then. His temper is apparently short-lived. "I had to let you win for the lady's sake," he chuckles.

He, too, draws a marker from his pocket and amends the points on the door, adding 10 to Demetri's name and subtracting 10 from his. Demetri has 645 points next to his name, second only to Jane. Felix has just 60.

"Thought you'd be a better fighter than that," I say to Felix, nodding to his dismal standing on the list and trying to focus on something other than the raging animal inside me.

"I go through 50 points in a day," he retorts. "If I saved my points like Demetri and Jane, I'd be crushing you all."

"Of course you would," Demetri agrees, but he mouths an exaggerated 'no' at me over Felix's shoulder. I suppress a tight smile and Demetri's expression clears. "We should go," he says flatly. "Thanks for the tour, brother."

The three of us walk back out into the stone hallway, and turn towards the elevator. Once we're inside, Demetri stiffens. Felix eyes him questioningly.

"Heidi," Demetri mutters quietly. His features harden, but Felix's expression suddenly brightens. He presses number 3, while Demetri presses 5.

"What about Heidi?" I ask, but nobody answers me.

When we reach the third floor, Felix hurries out, but Demetri hangs back. I make a decision then and follow Felix before the doors can slide closed. He's gone though, and I'm not quick enough to catch him.

"Leah," Demetri warns, his voice suddenly beside me. "We should go back to your bedroom. This isn't something you'd wish to see."

"_What_ isn't something I'd wish to see?" I snap. I'm still walking in the direction Felix took, towards the reception area, and Demetri is walking beside me.

He pauses and I automatically stop too. I'm not expecting him to answer me, but he does. "The Volturi are feeding," he says carefully.

I breathe out slowly. I feel the colour drain from my face, and then I'm hobbling away from Demetri as fast as I can. I can't run, not yet, but I move as quickly as I can. I arrive in the reception area just seconds after they do. There's a whole group of them. I can hear their hearts beating; it's loud and strange after the silence in the vampires' chests. I stare at them, but they don't stare back. They're too busy watching the suggestively dressed female vampire in front of them.

Heidi.


End file.
